


Embrace Collapse

by Aloice



Series: jayceofpiltover tumblr drabble collection [3]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M, old League verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloice/pseuds/Aloice
Summary: A night terror dream involving death and dance.Originally written for tumblr user communistofzaun.





	Embrace Collapse

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr in March 2015.

**“J'embrasse mon rival, mais c'est pour l'étouffer.”**  
_I embrace my rival, but it is to destroy him.  
_ \- Jean Racine, Britannicus

 

**One.**

The promiscuous steps of the tango.

He dances the way he always does - like a daemon - like a rose vine twirling around a heart of stone, bleeding poisoned love. His arms are like the wings of seabirds above the water, strong but fluid. Wills of their own.

He spins and the world joins in with the dynamic, his gravity making me the center of the universe.

I reach for him and he makes a round about me lithe as water, his hair glinting under the golden chandeliers.

I draw my lines and movements to his heartbeat.

 

**Two.**

He draws constellations with his intricate pathing and I -

I hold him back, like the sun.

And I drain him with the darkness inside of me,

A singularity brewing.

I eat away at the light on his features and it slows his constants

runs for a more rapid descent.

A planet without an atmosphere is null and void,

and he’s halfway there.

 

**Three.**

I flare, burn, dominate.

His skin is crystal pale like eggshell and there are cracks

fault lines that cross and asymptote and run parallel to veins and there’s no life inside

Yet the Black Widow craves

His hand falls away but I hold it tight

We are performing a death spiral tonight

 

**Four.**

I - expand.

He peels.

I am the Creator.

he bruises.

_the Infinite Denominator_

he bleeds.

I’m full of fuel of plasma of charged clouds running rampage and -

I cannot tell if he is yet breathing.

There’s a small sound from the edges of gravity: a hymn.

There’s a faint smile on the disappearing visage: resignation.

And I let him come in, come close, come fair as a painting

One final embrace, an orbit, an eclipse.

And when he’s fractions of astronomical units away I could

squeeze on that pulse until it gives.

I lower him into the drowning flames of his own requiem,

and find myself chuckling at the identity of the singer.

I will never need a mirror.


End file.
